


Dean Winchester kills gods

by messier51



Series: Tired Tropes [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Tattoos, Universe Alteration, canon divergent at 10.23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messier51/pseuds/messier51
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester killed Death, and now they're all paying the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Winchester kills gods

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://messier51.tumblr.com/post/121084004202/everyone-has-shitloads-of-tattoos-thats-pretty) for the [tired tropes](http://messier51.tumblr.com/post/120138934007/ceeainthereforthat-defilerwyrm-why-settle>tired%20tropes</a>%20prompt:%20) prompt: "Everyone has shitloads of tattoos. That's pretty much it. The author didn't really think it out any further than that."

The dusty black car stills beside a joshua tree minutes before the sun immolates itself on the mountain. A text with nothing but a pair of numbers flies off to an old friend before the driver stretches out ink-blacked hands in warning at the sky.

Dean Winchester considers the detritus-strewn wasteland before sitting on the hood of his car to wait. The full moon rises in half an hour, and every minute ‘til then will be tingling unrest, crawling along the words drawn into his skin, pulling him back to the road.

“WORLD KILLER,” they say, in a million different languages. “VOLATILE,” and “DANGEROUS” and “BEWARE” and “DO NOT APPROACH.”

Not that many people get close enough to read them. Tiny children from the backseats of their parents’ SUVs, sometimes, with wide eyes. The strange sort of shuffling avoiders inhabiting highway rest stops at twilight generally give him a wide berth.

It’s been 14 years since Dean’s felt the touch of another human. Well, of a human. What he is, what they are now? The thought makes him laugh.

Dean drove for another mile past the end of the dirt road, just to test his limits. Rolling around in glass shards and cactus spines that litter the mesa would’ve done the trick just as easy. Cactus spines would be easier to remove.

Cas arrives as twilight thins and moon starts to wash out the sky in turn.

Dean tried once to point his car at Kansas. Tried to drive as near to the anchor that holds Sam down just as totally as Dean gets pulled along. None of the roads went through. Cas is easier, some places, some times. Like the closest thing to daylight on the edge of almost-habitable land a night has ever seen. Perhaps, he thinks, it would be simpler to meet at midnight at the closing of the year above the arctic circle.

Maybe sometime he’ll try it.   

Cas, for his part, makes small talk, while Dean tries not to cry. Cas walked around inside of a hot air balloon while they were inflating it with giant fans. Cas fed goats. Cas helped build a school building. Cas made sure that Sam was safe.–Dean knows this last thing, they’ve been able to talk on the phone. But it was also part of the deal.

Cas fell silent over an hour ago, and even though the moon pitches more light to the ground with every minute of arc it ascends, there’s not enough distraction from the road. Dean itches at the markings just beneath the hems of his t-shirt sleeves. They won’t come off, they won’t stop, and he can’t hurt himself too permanently anymore anyway.

Cas leans in, ostensibly for warmth or something equally unnecessary. They’ve been doing this for longer than they were close enough friends to sacrifice their lives for each other. No one but Cas will come near Dean any more, but Cas has never explained what his version of the Winchesters’ tattoos do–Sam’s hold him in place, and Dean’s keep pushing him away, but both of them carry the words of humankind. To look at Cas; to look at his vessel, you wouldn’t know he carried any weight of their penance.

It has to be in the right light, where Cas’ self overlaps with his vessel–or at least, that’s what Sam said, one night when Dean almost got stuck in Atlanta traffic.

So really, all they can tell is that Cas’ markings are enochian and don’t seem to push humans away.

Dean considers pushing for answers, but now isn’t the time. Not when they can share space. Maybe in a few more years.

Maybe never.


End file.
